by Dante King
“That remains to be seen.” She laughed. “But he’s not fallen prey to the maladies of the flesh, if that’s your meaning. There are aspects to Augmentation that outstretch even a century’s worth of study. The blood of my race keeps me young, but I believe that Guildmaster Xilarion is human, at least. Which speaks volumes about his knowledge and power.”
“Xilarion said he fought with the Emperor. Beqai and Ganyir both mentioned they’d been involved in the campaigns, too. And Horix. Are they all as ancient as Xilarion?”
Faryn nodded. “Which makes it all the more impressive that you managed to defeat Horix in single combat.” She sipped at a goblet and examined it for a moment. “An extended lifespan hardens prejudice and pushes one toward stiff traditions. And yet, you woke King Beqai from his meditation and helped save his city. And, if what Mahrai tells me is correct, Lord Ganyir would not have taken back Hyng’ohr Valley without your encouragement.”
“Sometimes, all it takes is a little spark,” I said. “I merely wanted to help.”
“And help you did. But while you may see yourself as a spark, everyone else sees you as a blazing inferno, Ethan. A passionate whirl of flame that purifies the provinces and burns those that stray from the Wandering Path.”
I raised an eyebrow. “A passionate whirl of flame?”
Faryn’s cheeks flushed slightly as she nodded. “Yes.”
“Sounds romantic. Something else on your mind?”
She finished the last of her wine, set down her goblet, and gazed into my eyes. Her expression shifted from apprehensive to appreciative, and her fingers tightened around my hand. I felt another kind of hunger that had nothing to do with food.
I glanced around at the feast. Among the other revelers, Kumi and Vesma danced in flowing, circular motions. Mahrai had broached another barrel of wine to fill her cup. Kegohr had vanished, no doubt breaking bunks with Veltai somewhere. I knew that they wouldn’t miss me for the rest of the night.
“I have another kind of feast in mind for you, Ethan,” Faryn whispered.
I grinned and gestured to the doors of the hall. “Then, by all means, lead the way.”
Faryn left the hall, but I waited a few minutes at the table to discourage anyone from forming a connection between our absence. After I was sure she would have arrived in her quarters, I swallowed the last of my wine and went toward her room.
When Faryn and I had first started our relationship, my nights with her had always involved sneaking off to a quiet place in the woods, or a secret nook in the guild house. But after I’d returned here, Faryn had found it easier to invite me into her chambers on nights like this one. The feast would continue for another few hours, and it was unlikely that we would be missed.
I knocked on Faryn’s door and waited. She answered a moment later, and my jaw dropped. Her ceremonial robes had vanished in favor of a silk shift that barely fell past her hips and drew my gaze to her generous chest. She brushed a strand of her free-flowing hair behind a pointed ear and ushered me inside with a soft tug at my sleeve.
Her room reminded me of a forest clearing. Rough wooden panels flanked the walls and sported local flowers in neatly arranged bunches. Thick incense drifted over her downy bed, and a comforting warmth crept into my body as I turned to face her.
We didn’t waste time.
I kissed her gently, and she nudged me backward toward her bed. The taste of wine, sweetmeats, and Faryn’s own tongue flooded my mouth as she pressed herself against me and tugged at the ties of my robe. I helped her pull it open and let the garment fall to my feet. She moaned softly as I tickled her lips with my tongue and drew her down to the bed.
Her soft fingertips brushed the scar on my shoulder as she kissed my neck. I smiled at the contact, twisted over the sheets, and pressed her into the mattress. Another moan of pure need spilled from her throat as I traced a line of kisses down her neck and to the edge of her nightdress. She curled her fingers into my hair and encouraged me with a gentle tug toward her skin. I pulled the shift away from her shoulder and kissed her breast. Her spine curved into a beautiful arch as I let my tongue slip over her marbled nipple, and she reached down to pull at my trousers with desperate fingers.
“Please, Swordslinger,” Faryn murmured. “Take me.”
I took my time untying the loose pants that went with the ceremonial robe and paused a moment to appreciate her. Her eyes smoldered with need as she parted her smooth thighs and bared her wet, warm center to me. Brown hair splayed around her on the sheets in a gorgeous halo, and her pale skin shone in the low light of her chamber. I worked my way out of my trousers and slid effortlessly into her with one stroke.
“Yes,” Faryn moaned. “Please, more.”
Her bed creaked as I drove into her over and over again. Her silky skin pressed into mine as I kissed her and kept up the pace. She tightened her legs around my hips, and her nails tore into the sheets as she scrambled for a handhold. Pleasure rippled down my spine like lightning, and an animalistic growl spilled out of Faryn’s mouth as we both reached our peak. I slowed my pace, let her catch her breath, and dropped to her side.
Faryn traced a pattern over my skin as I tucked my hands behind my head and smiled up at the ceiling. The warm curve of her breast pressed into my ribs as she nuzzled closer to me. I took an appreciative breath of the sweet incense and Faryn’s own scent.
Life was good at the Radiant Dragon Guild House. But I would leave tomorrow. The monks would help me progress on the Swordslinger’s Path.
But why had they returned now? Did I have something to do with their re-emergence?
Chapter Seven
The next morning, I dressed quickly, buckled on my Immense Blades, and headed out toward the guild house’s entrance courtyard. The eternal pillar of flame greeted me with a wave of heat as I went through a few martial forms while I waited for my friends to appear.
Smooth movements and focused breathing chased away the tension in my muscles from yesterday’s grueling fights. The forms had been a fundamental part of my first training in Augmentation, and they were a staple of morning exercise in Radiant Dragon to help the flow of Vigor and keep its students in good shape. I warmed down with a series of complicated stretches, and once I had finished, Xilarion and Faryn appeared.
Faryn beamed at me as I met them at the main gate. I was surprised to see traveling equipment strapped to her back, but after not having her with me on our last mission, I was glad she would be journeying with us to the monastery.
I offered her a quick smile and inclined my head to Xilarion. He returned the gesture and betrayed no sign of the concern I had seen in his office last night.
“I miss the energy of youth sometimes,” Xilarion mused. “How does this morning find you, Center Disciple?”
“I’m ready to head out the moment the others arrive,” I answered. “What should we expect when we arrive at the Dying Sun Monastery?”
“The travel will be the taxing part of the journey,” Xilarion warned. “Few venture over the ranges, and for good reason. It’s a difficult path to tread.” He handed me a scroll.
“Another spell?” I took it, thinking of the fire golem I had summoned all those months ago.
He shook his head. “A map that marks the way through the mountains.”
I unrolled the map and studied the landmarks. “Can we expect bandits on the way? Or do monsters guard these mountains?”
“Vigorous Zones are scattered throughout the peaks,” Faryn said. “It’s nothing we haven’t seen before, of course, but with the reappearance of the monastery, there’s no telling what effect it may have had on the local wildlife.”
I nodded. “Do you have any messages to pass on to the monks?” I asked Xilarion.
“Extend my wish of good fortune, my greetings, and my gratitude to the Hierophant,” he said. “I owe him a great deal for his training, hard though it may have been. You would do well not to antagonize the monks or disobey their instructions. They are hard taskmasters.”
“I’ll keep it in mind, Guildmaster.” I rolled up the map and tucked it into my belt.
Vesma, Mahrai, Kumi, and Kegohr wandered out from the guild house proper, bleary-eyed and carrying their traveling kits. Mahrai’s face shone a sickly green in the light of the courtyard’s inferno, and I wondered exactly how much wine she had drank the night before. She could outdrink almost anyone, a fact she enjoyed proving. I could see fresh bruises snaking out from behind Kegohr’s garments. Veltai, it seemed, was as brutal in the bedroom as she was on the battlefield.
“Morning, Ethan.” Kumi skipped up beside me and kissed my cheek. “You’re up rather early. I expected you to enjoy the opportunity to sleep after yesterday.”
“Nothing a bit of mountain air won’t fix,” I said.
The guildmaster examined us with a cool expression and nodded his approval. “Make sure to watch out for each other.”
“We will, Guildmaster,” Kegohr said enthusiastically.
The gates swung open at a nod from Xilarion, and we left the guild house behind us. Two roads branched out from the front gate. One snaked down into Wysaro City while the other forked to the left and gave us a path across the side of the mountain toward our destination. We kept up a good pace and chatted as we walked.
I glanced at Mahrai as she clutched her stomach. Sweat dotted her forehead, and dark rings circled her eyes. She was still remarkably beautiful, even while struggling with the world’s biggest hangover.
“If you ask me how I am,” she growled as I approached, “I’m going to punch you in the throat and then see if my golem can throw you over the mountains.”
“I doubt you’ll be capable of even swinging your fist,” I teased. “Not to mention summoning a golem.”
Mahrai winced and glared at me through her hair. “Don’t talk so loud.”
I beckoned to Faryn, who strolled over to us with a bright smile. Mahrai muttered a curse as I turned to Faryn and nodded at her bag.
“Do you have anything that can shake off a headache and calm a stomach?” I asked.
“But of course,” Faryn replied merrily. “I take it you enjoyed your night, then, Mahrai?”
“Probably less than you did,” Mahrai said, but she eyed Faryn’s bag hopefully.
“Take care of her for me,” I said in a stage whisper. “She’s a little sensitive.”
“Fuck you, Ethan!” Mahrai protested.
I tipped her a saucy wink. “Later, maybe. We need to get to the monks first.”
Our path was well-worn and smooth from centuries of use, but as we passed a shrine and started out toward the range that walled off Flametongue Valley, the road shifted. Gravel and jagged rocks crunched under our sandals. An hour later, I gave Vesma the map and beckoned her to the head of our little party to lead the way. The path steepened as it took us past fast-flowing streams of clear water.
Most of my time in Flametongue Valley had been spent on the outskirts of Wysaro City, in the Unwashed Temple, or around the guild house. My dedication to Augmentation hadn’t really let me appreciate just how breathtaking the local surroundings were. From up here, I could see it all.
Wysaro City lay in the foothills of the range, protected by thick stone walls and the natural barrier of the mountain behind it. Pagoda roofs of carved terracotta stretched up toward the sky to catch the sun. Even from this high up, I could see the sun reflecting off the steel of the sentry’s helmets as they stood to attention at the walls.
Rice farms spilled outward from the city in carved steppes and filled the valley floor with lush greens and blues. Smaller shrines and houses clustered around the farms, marking the border between the rice fields and the thick trees of Danibo Forest.
I let my gaze slide across the valley and found Wysaro Castle standing near the entrance. Age-old stone walls surrounded the mighty fortress, and huge banners bearing the clan’s red eagle danced in the wind above its tallest towers.
Vesma bumped my elbow and let out an amused laugh. “It’s like you’ve never seen it before.”
“I don’t think I have, not like this.”
“It’s pretty enough, I suppose.” She grimaced and shook a stone out of her sandal. “I was hoping the paths would be a little smoother than this. It makes Scorched Pass look simple by comparison.”
I recalled the small pass that we had taken to get through to the Diamond Coast. “We’ll have to deal with it. I want to get to the monastery before midnight.”
Vesma tilted the map and appraised it with a practiced eye. “We can make it.”
“Keep me posted,” I said.
I squeezed her shoulder affectionately. Vesma hummed in response and joined Kegohr at the head of our party. I slowed my pace a little and filtered through the group until I was right at the back. Yono chuckled as I brushed my fingers against the handle of the Depthless Dream.
“That tickles,” she murmured. “How may I be of service, Master?”
“What can you tell me about the monastic traditions in the Seven Realms?”
“Hmm,” Yono mused. “It has been some time since I’ve heard them mentioned, but I see from your thoughts that they are very much a reality in the currents of your fate.” The Water Spirit paused for a moment. “They were, as Kumi told you, the caretakers of the Temple of the Deep. My home, after a fashion, for many centuries. Their superiors occasionally spoke to me, but they never took me up against their foes.”
“Why not?” I asked, surprised.
“I believe one of them explained it as the shameful use of a holy relic,” Yono said with a hint of mischief. “I have no problems with being used, Master, but the right hand must wield me if I am to fully cooperate with their pathways.”
“So, how did they fight their foes if not with water Augmentation?” I asked.
Yono hesitated. “They had their own ways, Master. As I’m sure you’ll learn. Their understanding of Augmentation far outshines even my knowledge of the subject. An ocean cannot possibly be contained by a puddle, after all.”
I tried to press her, but Yono left me with that thought and drifted back into the murky parts of my mind to rest. The Immense Blades held power and knowledge far beyond my own, but Yono seemed convinced that these long-lost monks held power even greater than hers. The thought filled me with excitement as I trudged up the mountain path. What kinds of things could I accomplish with Xilarion’s strength and focus? He had been trained by these monks, so, with their help, his skills and experience could be mine.
I tracked the progress of the sun as the day went on. When we reached a small plateau, I called everyone to halt. Kegohr passed around provisions while the others sat for a hard-earned rest. I took a small bun of steamed bread wrapped in a cloth and picked out a seat at the edge of the stony platform overlooking the valley. As I chewed, I drew the Sundered Heart and rested it across my knees. The blade glittered in the midday sun as I tapped a rhythm on it. Nydarth moaned appreciatively as I reached out to find her in the depths of my thoughts.
“You take me to the loveliest places,” she observed.
At the edge of the forest, I recognized a small temple. It looked exactly like the Himalayan temple I had visited on my last day on Earth. But this was the Unwashed Temple, the place where I had first met Tolin. The old caretaker had been the first to teach me about Augmenting, and I had to admit I missed him, even his snide remarks.
A flood of nostalgia washed over me while I munched on the loaf and washed it down with water Kumi had taken from one of the mountain streams. My first few months in the Seven Realms had been spent cleaning and repainting the Unwashed Temple. The building looked like a matchbox from here, but I would have recognized the place anywhere.
“Remember the attack in the temple on Earth?” I asked Nydarth as her sword sat across my lap. “Way before the Seven Realms? When you first spoke to me?”
“Of course, Master,” she purred. “You were younger and weaker then.”
“It seems like years ago,” I said.
&n
bsp; “You’ve grown. Just as I knew you would. You took to this world, learned its secrets, and never ceased your quest for power and knowledge. You gained my allegiance, and even that of Yono and Choshi. We serve only those with the potential for great power and the ability to free us, however briefly, from our homes within these tools.”
“And I’ve only just scratched the surface. The monks have knowledge that has been lost for centuries. The kind of knowledge that even you can’t teach me.”
Nydarth sniffed. “Our power is different than yours, Master. We understand the raw element that you seek to use in combat, and how to best twist it to serve you. Our knowledge of Augmentation is vast, but even then, we are no longer the dragons or the hearts of Vigorous Zones. Much has been lost to us that should have been retained.”
“We’ll get there together. All of us.”
“But of course, Master. What else would you do with your time? Warm your chambers with armies of young women with rosy flesh?”
I glanced over the women behind me and grinned. “You’re joking, right?”
Nydarth laughed. “But of course.”
“This province is drenched in your element,” I said. “Do you know anything about the monks of the Dying Sun? Did you ever brush against them in the past?”
“Not in a very long while. Other than that old half-wit Tolin. And he barely resembled an ascetic. He was uncouth, had greasy hands, and certainly didn’t have your strong young limbs.”
“You. . . you didn’t visit him in the night, did you?”
“Of course not!” Nydarth yelled, outraged. “I would never have touched that fool and his wrinkled member.”
I chuckled at her description. “Good. I’m not sure I’d want Tolin’s seconds.”
“That old monk left me to rust in the Ember Cavern,” she said.
“Tolin’s a monk?” I asked.
“How else do you describe a senile creature who lives alone with a cat and doesn’t make an attempt to touch the outside world?”
